


holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

by orphan_account



Series: it's my own remorse [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, I like this thing I've created, Laura and the dean though, Not really Morganstein so much as it is mentioned Morganstein, Possessed Laura mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no end to despair unless you fall. You don't want to fall but you can't lose Carmilla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so here's the thing. This thing I'm creating is constructed on a diversion from the end of season 1 and an exploration of what would happen if Laura's possession and Carmilla's use of the Blade of Hastur had more dire consequences. It's the set-up for the final piece which is going to get dark so be warned. If you don't like the Dean, don't read past this one (probably don't read this one either). I'm not joking. The Dean is going to be heavily involved in the third and final part of this.
> 
> Again, title comes from Lorde's cover of _Everybody Wants to Rule the World_.

Her head hurts, her vision turning hazy as she sways. She knows that this is not normal, that something is wrong, but she does not say anything, does not alert Carmilla to it. Something inside of her begs for silence, for her to keep the other girl in the dark.

She obeys without thought, without regard for what Carmilla might think. Turnabout is fairplay and there is a part of her that wants to keep this secret, that wishes she would not have to reveal it eventually.

She knows that she will have to, that soon enough Carmilla will question her, but there is still time, time enough for both of them to explore this, to see what they can do. She knows what it is, after all, has seen her in her reflection whenever she looks into a mirror. Carmilla sees her too, she thinks, but she won’t say anything.

There is fear in the way she looks at her, a wariness that had not been there before the battle at the Lustig, before her mother had intervened directly. The part of her that is still herself hates it, wants to destroy that fear before it can consume them but there is something deeper. Something that exists only where the light ends and the darkness begins that stills her hand, bites her tongue every time she moves to reassure her.

_“Don’t do it.”_

The voice is hers but the inflection, the tone, it is all wrong. She can hear the difference, can see the way her body shifts as she yields control. The movements are graceful, but they are all wrong somehow, as if they were meant for something predatory, more...seductive than she can ever be.

They are a warning, a threat to refrain from acting. She is made to be aware of what exactly her body does and who controls her. She wants to fight but she is afraid, not for herself but for Carmilla.

She is dying, she knows this, can see it every time she struggles to get up in the morning. The Blade, it consumes her even now and this? This will kill her. She cannot know.

* * *

_“You should worry about yourself.”_

She knows this, knows that worrying about Carmilla will not help her in the end but she cannot help herself. She wants to keep her, to make her her own over and over again.

It terrifies her that she does not know if this is her own thought or if it is a seed _she_ plants into her mind, poison slowly dripping through her. She feels it sometimes, the overlap of their thoughts, like slime coating her until she is a shuddering mess.

“I can’t.”

She sees Carmilla, sees the way she seems to fade away and she wants to stop it, to keep her safe and hers. She wants to save her, wants to be the one who rescues her from whatever hellish nightmare she has trapped herself in for her. It is a debt that she needs to repay, a debt that will not go away simply because she has given her heart to her.

They both know this, both know that Carmilla does not want to be saved. They have had this same fight again and again, a shared mindscape torn apart by war and indecision. They never agree but she refuses to back down, refuses to let Carmilla go without a fight, without trying to keep her alive.

She picks up another book, pauses as she sits down at her table in the library once more. It is as if the book whispers to her, calls out to her in a siren song she cannot resist. Her fingers itch to open it, her eyes longing to scan pages written in an archaic script she should not be able to read, should not be capable of understanding.

Part of her knows that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she shouldn’t be here. Carmilla is not a damsel to be rescued, not a story to be covered or a mission to undertake. Carmilla is her own person but she is so much more than that to her, so much more than simply a girl. She is everything and she refuses to lose her again.

They refuse to lose her again.

She shudders at the thought. She wants to escape this, to cleanse her mind of this toxin but she cannot do that, not yet. The infection is too deeply rooted, too embedded in her to simply rid herself of it. Her own well-being is not as important anyway, not when her girlfriend is dying because she saved her.

Carmilla is the only one who matters, the only one who needs saving now. Everyone else is safe. The fish demon is gone and they do not need to worry about anything else right now.

Something new may come, something will always try to fill the void. She does not know how she knows this but she does. She knows this but it still does not compare to what Carmilla needs and what she needs to do to save her.

She’s saved everyone else, went against her mother when every part of her was screaming for her to run. Laura knows this, knows well what it meant when she had shown up, when she had pulled her back from the abyss before turning to face the Dean, sword in hand.

She can’t help but laugh as she reads the tome before her. Of course it always comes back to the Dean and that damn sword. Everything that had happened then, everything that is happening now, is because of it. Part of her wishes that she had never even found out about the thing but it is too late for that now, too late for regretting the things she can’t change.

_“It was always going to be a futile attempt. Everything has its consequences, after all.”_

She grits her teeth and tries to block out that voice again, tries to ignore the way it twists and warps around her until she’s struggling to breathe. Her vision clouds and she feels dizzy, head spinning as she closes her eyes and tries to breathe deeply.

A hand on her elbow, guiding her up and away. She looks up just in time to see Carmilla clench her jaw as she marches her out of the library and towards their dorm. In the light of the moon, she is ethereal, a dark angel come down to be what? Her protector? Her lover?

Hers. Theirs.

She does not know anymore. All she knows is that she needs to be closer to her, to feel Carmilla against her and know that she is there, that she is alive. After all this time, it is still the only thing that can calm her down.

“Carm?”

Carmilla hums her acknowledgement but does not look at her as they walk. Pressed against her as she is, Laura can feel the tension, the stiffness of her body as she moves, almost as if something is terrifying her but she does not know what, cannot know what just yet.

_“Isn’t it obvious, little one? The hunter has turned into the hunted once more.”_

She shudders and soon her body is no longer her own. Her muscles are more relaxed, her stance different, more confident and predatory as she clings to Carmilla’s body. It is less an act of affection as it is this all-consuming need to stake her claim, to show the world around her that Carmilla is hers, that she will always be hers.

Her hands wind themselves around the girl, snake-like but that isn’t correct, is it? It is as if she is sinking her claws into her, as if she is rooting herself into Carmilla more than she already has.

It makes her sick, makes her want to look away but she can’t. She feels…wrong, violated as she watches. Carmilla barely notices the transition. She wants to scream, to warn her, to push her away, to do something to let her know that this is not her, that this is not who she thinks it is.

Only, she can do neither of those things, is forced to watch as the Dean uses her body to get closer and closer to her, to cling onto the other girl. She purrs contentedly as she snuggles into her and Laura wants to throw up.

_“Amazing, isn’t it? She doesn’t even notice that you’re not here, not yet anyway.”_

Carmilla jerks away when she raises a hand to touch her, to caress her jaw, and Laura knows then that she has figured it out. That somehow, who can really say how she does it, she knows that her body is no longer her own. She sees the fear, the confusion that laces through her and she aches to do something, anything to change that, to make it so that she will not have to feel like this but she can’t.

She doesn’t think that she ever truly can.

* * *

They are too far in, too deep in this to escape and they both know it. As she looks at herself in the mirror, all she can think is that all they can do now is fall together.

There is no way to save her, no way that will ensure Carmilla’s safety without harming her in some way. She hates this, hates that she can’t do anything, but she doesn’t know what else to do. They are running out of time, their forever dying before her eyes, and there is nothing she can do, nothing she can find to stop it.

She growls in frustration, wiping the water from her eyes, her dripping hair getting in the way as she tries to focus on her reflection. She does this if only just to focus on something, anything. The steam clears and she frowns as she notices something on the mirror, a message in a script that is neither hers nor Carmilla’s.

This is what scares her most, the not knowing. The times when she is conscious of her possession are increasing but there are more than a few occurrences when she does not know, when her memory is blank and all she has left is Carmilla, scared and wary of touching her, of being around her.

_HASTUR CONSUMES, DESTROYS. CARCOSA IS DECAY, DEATH._

She blinks, retreats from the mirror until her back hits the wall behind her. Her legs fail her and she falls to the floor, body curling in on  itself as she rocks back and forth.

She does not need this, does not need the reminder of what is happening to Carmilla. She does not need to be reminded of the consequences of her actions. She cannot regret the things she did but still, it hurts so much to remember.

_“Interesting, isn’t it? The way the human body reacts to simple words. You see them and suddenly the world comes crashing down, almost as if there is nothing left for you to do but to curl up and die. You are insignificant creatures, beasts meant for nothing more than to be our fodder. Did you really think that you could attempt to rise above your station without suffering the results of your actions? Foolish, foolish girl.”_

Her mind feels fragmented, torn apart more and more the longer she remains there on the floor. She wants to get up, to run, hide until there is no way to be found. She wants to turn her back on everything but she can’t. She is not that person, is not the coward who runs away from their problems. She is not…

_“Are not what? Like her? You know you are. You know exactly what you are, Laura Hollis, and no matter how much you try, you cannot escape from it.”_

She shakes her head. She isn’t like that. She is smart, brave. She is everything that isn’t that. She is everything that she has tried so hard to become. She is everything her father has taught her to be, everything she has learned to be.

She is good. She has to be good. She cannot be anything else, cannot be…she cannot be that. She has to believe that she isn’t, has to believe that she is good. She has to believe that all of this means something more than failure and despair.

She needs this, needs Carmilla. She needs her alive in a way she has never needed anyone. It is unhealthy and it is so unlike her but there is something inside of her, something toxic that eats away at her core and she is not sure how much longer she will be able to resist it, how much longer she can resist.

She needs Carmilla to keep her grounded, to keep her sane. She can’t do this without her, can’t live like this much longer. The constant war to keep dormant the dark thing that has taken root inside of her, it is beginning to take its toll on her and she is not sure how much longer she can keep this up. She is not sure how much longer she can keep going when everything points to an answer she doesn’t want.

_Destruction. Death. Decay._

The words keep running through her mind over and over again. All she can see is Carmilla dying, fading away while she struggles to remain herself. She needs to find a way to save her, to save both of them before something else appears, before something more evil, something far darker attacks.

It is coming. The thing inside of her, it tells her that and more. She has no choice but to believe it, has no choice but to accept it when, night after night after night, all she sees in her dreams, her nightmares, is darkness, blood seeping through her fingers as she watches her father, her friends, dying around her.

She has to protect them, has to protect everyone. She has to find a way to protect everyone she loves, has to find something, anything…

_“Ah, now you’re coming to see things my way. Join me, won’t you, Ms. Hollis? I could give you everything you want.”_

She will fall if she does this, she knows, but she can’t help it, can’t stop herself. It will save Carmilla, will protect the campus. With a prospect like that, how can she not?


End file.
